Your presence might not stir me
As much as your absence does
Like some tucked in treasure
Perhaps it’s the fragrance of your hair
I wonder
If not love, what I am to you
But an inconvenient truth
A tacit one, one that pains
On a night drunk on love
And when this feeling ceases
Will you put my name to it
And pretend to forget?
Or will you fill my want
In this vortex of desire?
I wonder
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